


Sweet le Faye From Devon

by pavingnewpaths



Series: Summer Pornathon 2015 [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, F/M, PWP, Summer Pornathon 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 16:26:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4753097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pavingnewpaths/pseuds/pavingnewpaths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwaine's looking to get his money back and gets more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet le Faye From Devon

**Author's Note:**

> 'Tropesmash' challenge entry for pornathon, expanded but unbetaed. Morgana is loosely based off of Poker Alice.

It’s high noon when Gwaine strolls into the saloon. The familiar scent of sawdust and bourbon lingers in the air. There’s a commotion towards the back, but he ignores it in favor of heading towards the nearly empty bar.  
   
“Emrys, have you moved at all since I’ve been gone?” Gwaine says as he approaches.  
   
Merlin whips his head around and grins up at him, hauling him into an embrace by the collar of his dress shirt.  
   
“How’re they doing, at The Old States?” Merlin asks, and Gwaine slides into the empty stool beside him.  
   
Gwaine shrugs, “Fine. Nothing like good ‘ol Guy Town, though.”  
   
Percy comes over to them, another gin for Merlin and glass of water for Gwaine – one brow raised, as though he’s certain today will be the day Gwaine cracks and orders a whiskey. Gwaine gives him an exaggerated grin instead.     
   
He tilts his head toward Merlin. “Say Emrys,” he says, “Have you seen Old Tibbs around? Bastard owes me my double eagles.”  
   
Merlin winces. “Wouldn’t be surprised if the poor gent was halfway to Albuquerque right about now,” he says, taking a sip of his drink. “He got cleaned out – money and dignity in one run.”  
   
Gwaine curses. “’s that what the uproar is about?” he asks, nodding towards the back poker table. Merlin nods. “Well. Who’s the new chap then?”  
   
Merlin grins widely. “Poker le Fay.” 

***

Gwaine pushes his way through the crowd around the table until he’s standing in front of a young woman with raven hair. Her Stetson hat is tipped forward, and Gwaine can only see the cherry of her lips wrapped around a lit cigarette.  
   
The clamor crowd dies down when Gwaine slams his glass down on the table in front of her, the contents spilling over. She looks up and pulls the cigarette from between her lips.  
   
“Something wrong, pretty boy?”  
   
“Old Tibb owed me money.”  
   
Morgana laughs and takes a sip of Gwaine’s glass. Her nose scrunches and she goes back to shuffling a deck of cards. “Sounds like a problem between you and Tibbs.”  
   
“He took French leave because of _you_ . And I want what’s mine.” Morgana barely flinches and Gwaine frowns -- he was _not_ going to let her brush him off. He punches the rickety table and leans toward forward so they’re eye level. "You think I give a damn about your reputation, little lady? I'll make you pay just as if you had a cock under that skirt."  
   
Morgana’s lips press into a thin line and she drags her gaze up to meet his. “Your drink of choice is Adam’s Ale. Your threats don’t mean a damn thing.”  
   
Gwaine grits his teeth and pulls up a chair to straddle. “Deal,” he says.  
   
Morgana raises a brow and Gwaine taps his fingers against the table. “Come on, then. We’ll play for it. If you win, I’ll consider the debt settled. If I win, you pay up, and –“  
   
“And nothing. You’ll have your money.”  
   
“I deserve something for my troubles.”  
   
She scoffs. “What do you want?”  
   
Gwaine licks his lips. “Does it matter? I’m not going to win anyway, am I?”  
   
Morgana leans back in her seat and gives him an appraising look. He smirks.  
   
She deals.

***

The third time Morgana bites her lower lip, Gwaine is able to ignore his growing arousal and realize the action for what it is: a tell.

***

Gwaine kisses down Morgana’s neck, his hands pressing her waist into the mattress when she arches up against him.  
   
“You have the most incredible breasts,” he says, and sucks a pert nipple into his mouth.  
   
She moans and grabs a fistful of his hair, tugging on it roughly. Gwaine moves to press kisses between her breasts, and licks a stripe down to her navel.  
   
“I let you win,” she breathes out, apropos of nothing.  
   
“Hmm?” Gwaine hums distractedly, then, “What?” He looks up at her. “No, you didn’t.”  
   
“Yes. I did,” she insists.  
   
Gwaine narrows his eyes and Morgana drags him up for a heady kiss. She licks into his mouth – wet and hot, and Gwaine groans against her lips. Morgana pulls away and locks eyes with him -- she bites down on her lower lip. Gwaine curses.  
   
“Why?” he asks.  
   
“Because,” she says, pushing him onto his back. “Then I’d owe you one.”  
   
Morgana’s expression is lewd and a little bit mischievous. “But now you owe me, and I want to sit on your face.”  
   
Gwaine’s breath leaves him in a rush. “Yeah, all right,” he murmurs.  
   
Morgana gives him a wicked grin, her lipstick now smeared obscenely across her mouth. She crawls up his body and lifts her skirt, rests her knees on either side of his head.  
   
“You’re not wearing any – _Christ_ ,” Gwaine remarks dumbly, his words muffled by the cotton. He grabs her hips to pull her against his face, licks into her with the tip of his tongue.  
   
“Oh, _oh_ , your _mouth_ ,” Morgana moans, gripping the headboard and rocking against his face.  
   
Gwaine slides a hand beneath her skirt to grab her ass. He moves his tongue tantalizingly over her clit until she’s writhing against him, her breaths coming out in heavy pants.

Morgana comes with a shudder and loud cry. She slides down to gives him a filthy kiss, and rubs her thigh against the bulge in his trousers. “Didn’t need to convince you, did I?”


End file.
